Cheryl's Blog

Leaving the Matrix

I swept the back deck early this morning while soaking in the sunlight that had been missing for days. The floor looked like a night sky covered in little green stars – spring leaves scattered everywhere, swiped from the trees during a Nor’easter that blew through on Thursday.

Sweeping feels like an appropriate metaphor for life right now.

I’ve been reevaluating my priorities, making space for new ones. I want more time to write and create, to play with friends, to read good books, and to tend to life’s everyday responsibilities with presence so they feel less like a burden and more like a privilege.

In the wisdom years, time and energy become precious commodities that demand to be used wisely. At some point, as a result of investing in personal growth, you realize that it’s healthy to pass up good for great, to say no unless it’s an absolute yes, to disappoint people, and to challenge the voices that tell you to keep doing the things you don’t want to do anymore.

As a woman, I’ve often felt like I live in the matrix, trapped inside a system that expects me to keep taking care of others at the expense of my own needs. This matrix was designed to keep us in line. There were rules you couldn’t break, people you were required to please, questions you couldn’t ask, and consequences that felt life-threatening if you dared to do something different.

Self-help books, workshops, good therapy, keeping a journal, and sharing my journey with fellow travelers were the keys to freedom. It took something outside of the matrix to help me see it. Then, once I had a glimpse of the box I was stuck in, these tools gave me a way out.

As I reassess my priorities now, I’m choosing to be even more selective about how I spend my time and energy. And as I do, I can feel the pull of the matrix once again. Its voice tells me to be the responsible one, not to let others down, to do the right thing, and to be a “good girl.” But I’m not a girl anymore. I’m a woman. And this woman knows exactly how to walk out that door.

It’s a beautiful thing to be so awake that you can no longer pretend to be asleep.

Love,

Cheryl

 

Photo by Lan Gao on Unsplash